


The Professor and the Terrorist

by LadyC



Category: X-Men (Movieverse), X-Men: Days of Future Past (2014) - Fandom, X-Men: First Class (2011) - Fandom
Genre: Canon Compliant, Domestic, Fluff and Angst, Hank Being Awesome, Honestly Charles What Are You Thinking, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Implied/Referenced Drug Addiction, M/M, Period-Typical Homophobia, Protective Erik, Psychic Bond, Secret Relationship
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-09-04
Updated: 2014-12-25
Packaged: 2018-02-16 02:45:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 14,595
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2253009
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyC/pseuds/LadyC
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Charles and Erik, as seen by those closest to them.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Moira

**Author's Note:**

> Each chapter will be from a different character’s POV – from Moira’s suspicion to Logan’s irritation to Hank’s obliviousness.

**Moira**

Moira hated undercover work.

Though on the surface the most interesting part of her job, it required a degree of patience that she found herself lacking more and more as she got older. She remembered a time when being out in the field had felt invigorating, when she had been sure of herself and her country. That was before the accident.

Moira felt the familiar frustration that arose whenever she struggled to recall the details. They told her that that she had been struck hard on the back of her skull by an unknown assailant at the Hellfire Club and had spent the next few weeks drifting in and out of consciousness. In the fourth week, she made a near-miraculous recovery, but her memory of the past month would likely never return.

Having nowhere to go and nothing else to do, Moira returned to work at the Agency. And here she was, still, more than a decade later. By every measurable standard, she was fine, and she saw no reason to let anyone think otherwise. She clung tightly to the hope that, if she could distract herself enough, she could get rid of the inescapable feeling that the gap in her life was far greater than a three-week hospital visit. It was as if there was some great secret, something that would give purpose to her life, was constantly hovering just out of reach.

She had accepted years ago that each day would the same as the next, bringing her no closer to an answer. But this morning was different.

When she opened the file that had been handed to her, she froze and felt herself come fully awake in what felt like the first time in years. There, paper-clipped to the top of a lengthy report, was a photo of a handsome man who appeared to be in his mid-thirties. Even on the photographic paper, his stunningly blue eyes radiated intelligence and compassion. The label beneath the image informed her that this was Professor Charles Xavier.

She recognized the name, of course – any half-decent agent would had at least heard of one of the most powerful mutants known to the world. But Xavier was world-renowned for his impressive academic resume and staunch support of education, peace, and restraint.  What was he doing here in her mission dossier?

Brushing off the strangeness of her reaction to him, Moira put the photograph aside and scanned the first few pages of the report. It appeared that the Professor was suspected of aiding and abetting the mutant terrorist known as Magneto.

That was odd. Professor Xavier seemed like the last person on earth that would be involved with someone that dangerous. And yet, they had Xavier on tape speaking to Magneto and then doing nothing as he escaped. That alone would be damning enough for most men, but this particular man’s mutant “gift” was telepathy and controlling people’s minds was a documented ability of his. In fact, it looked on tape as if the Professor had used that power moments before on Magneto himself to force him lift some fallen debris. So why had he let him go?

The Agency had been wary of directly confronting Professor Xavier about the issue – the extent of his abilities was even less clear – but now that he had applied for accreditation for his school for “gifted students,” they had a perfect opportunity.

And that was how Moira found herself winding around lakes and over hills towards the Professor’s Westchester mansion that was in the process of being converted into a school. As positive as she felt about the man, Moira wouldn’t be taking any chances. The Agency had provided her with a cloth-covered headband made from the metal alloys they had uncovered in Magneto’s dropped helmet, so she could be certain that any conclusions she reached would be her own. Moira touched it again for reassurance as she approached the mansion’s gates, which feature a sign that read “Xavier’s School for Gifted Youngsters.” It’s presence seemed a bit presumptuous considering that they were not yet accredited, but she wrote it off as being indicative of the professor’s inexorable optimism. 

 A few minutes later, a young man in glasses was opening the door for her and leading her to a small but inviting office. The Professor wheeled in shortly after, extending his hand in greeting. “Lovely to meet you. I’m Charles Xavier.”

“Nice to meet you, too, Professor. My name is Beth Harris. I’m here from the Board of Education to discuss your school’s accreditation process.”

The blandly polite expression on his face faltered for a moment, but he recovered quickly and forced another smile. “Please, have a seat.” He moved to the other side of the desk and handed over a small mountain of paperwork. “Now. Where shall we begin?”

 

* * *

 

Moira found her thoughts wandering as Xavier gave perfunctory answers to her questions about his qualifications, resources, and curricula.

 _He really is quite charming. And those pictures didn’t even come close to capturing how blue his eyes are._ She couldn’t shake the feeling that they’d had an instant connection – if she believed in past lives, she might think she’d known him, even loved him, in at least one of them. As important as she knew it was to get a lead on Magneto, she couldn’t help but hope that Charles wouldn’t be the one to provide it.

She was paying enough attention to note that he did not mention mutants once. It was apparently up to her to broach the topic. When she did, his passionate argument for nonviolence and full integration of mutants into society seemed to confirm her initial appraisal of him.

“One last question, Professor. Apologies for prying into personal areas of your life, but we believe that the character of a headmaster is integral to creating a successful learning environment. We want to make sure that we are aware of any potential issues that may arise before the students even walk through the door.”

“Of course. Ask anything you’d like.”

“What is your relationship with the terrorist known as ‘Magneto’?”

He blanched and Moira’s heart sank. Covering his discomfort with an unconvincing smile, he said, “‘Terrorist’ is a rather strong word, isn’t it?”

Moira’s gaze hardened. “He’s a man who uses violence and threats to intimidate or coerce others for political purposes. That is literally the dictionary definition of a terrorist. Please answer the question, Professor. What is the nature of your relationship with him?”

“I’m sorry, just what are you implying?” He looked outrageously affronted.

Moira paused to reflect on her word choice, then felt a blush begin to creep across her cheeks. _Of course, that’s why he reacted so strongly._ “Oh, Professor, I’m so sorry. I didn’t for an instant mean to imply that…”

She trailed off, hoping he’d rescue her, but the Professor just continued to stare at her, stony-faced.

“That, you know, you and he were… _together_ together in any sort of untoward way.” She laughed nervously. “Obviously we’d have bigger problems here if _that_ were a possibility.”

“Obviously.”

He was still frowning, but Moira supposed she couldn’t blame him. What greater insult could you give a man? Most would confess to being a terrorist first.

“To get to the point, Professor, newsreel footage seemed to show you conversing with Magneto after he nearly assassinated his second president and then proceeding to let him get away. So, the obvious question – for the parents, of course – would be this: why did you let him go?’

The Professor remained silent as he studied her thoughtfully.

“Please, Professor Xavier. I need an answer. Everyone knows about all of the amazing work you do – you clearly don’t actually agree with the man. Were you afraid? Does he have something on you? Are you…”

“Enough.” He lifted a hand, then ran it back through his hair, glancing away.

He suddenly looked much younger and Moira recalled that the distinguished Professor Xavier was actually three years her junior. She opened her mouth to say something sympathetic, but his next words made her blood run cold.

“I’m so sorry, Moira.”

“My name is Beth.”

“Let’s stop lying to each other, yes?”

Trying to keep her hand from shaking, Moira reached up to make sure her headband was still in place.

“Don’t worry, Agent MacTaggert, your shield is working. I cannot read your thoughts. But I know you. And I’m afraid I owe you an apology. I didn’t always have the ethics and convictions I have today, and in the past I made some choices that I’ve sincerely come to regret. What I did to you is one of them.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“But you do, Moira. You feel like something important is missing, like there’s a key piece of yourself that you’re desperate to get back. Am I wrong?”

She paused a moment, then shook her head.

“I cannot tell you how sorry I am that a large part of that is my fault. I thought I was doing the right thing for all of us by taking your memories…”

“I’m sorry, you _what_?”

“But in retrospect I feel it was a mistake to impinge on someone’s free will like that, especially someone who had sacrificed so much for us and had done nothing to prove herself untrustworthy. I know it’s ten years too late, but I can still correct my mistake. Would you like your memories back, Moira?”

She shuddered. His tone suggested their return might be something she’d regret. But she had spent far too long desperately wondering what was missing to give up now, right on the precipice of answers. “Yes.”

“I need you to take off that headband.”

She fought down her rising fear and forced herself to meet his eyes.

“Do you trust me, Moira?”

She let out a quick breath, nearly a laugh, and did as he asked. “Let’s be honest here, Professor. Do I really have a choice?”

He smiled, then leaned towards her. Moira closed her eyes and, for a moment, thought he might kiss her, but instead she felt his fingers come to rest lightly on her temple.

“This may be a little overwhelming at first, but I’ll go as gently as I can. Okay?”

She nodded.

It felt like tiny electric sparks were flowing from his fingers across her scalp. There was a soft pushing sensation that grew steadily more insistent and she realized this was Xavier, asking to be let in. Moira took a deep, steadying breath, then opened her mind to him. She saw bright flashes – trees, sunlight, a kiss – and then the images started coming too fast and everything faded to black.

 

* * *

 

Moira drifted hazily, her brain struggling to re-integrate the flood of memories. Through the fog, she heard two male voices whispering, sounding at one close by and very far away.

“This is a bad idea, Charles, I’m telling you.”

“Yes, I heard you the last twenty times. And I will tell you, once again, that it’s the morally right thing to do.”

“And what’s the ‘morally right thing to do’ if she discovers something she doesn’t like here and sneaks off in the middle of the night to raise an alarm?”

“Let’s cross that bridge when we come to it.”

“Oh, excellent plan, Professor. Sometimes I think you’re obtuse on purpose, just to irritate me.”

“Can we talk about this later? I’m exhausted and I’m sure you’re not much better.”

“I am fully capable of having a rational conversation about….”

“Please, love.”

“Well… Fine. But you’re not getting out of this tomorrow. No distractions.”

“Wouldn’t dream of trying.”

Moira tried to force her eyes open to get a glimpse of the speakers, but the effort was too much for her still fragile consciousness and she slipped back into darkness.

 

* * *

When Moira fully awoke, she found herself lying on a bed, draped in a soft woolen comforter. Her headband had been replaced as well, which she found oddly touching. The Professor - _Charles_ , she corrected herself – was sitting by her bedside reading. When he noticed that she was awake, he put the book aside and smiled warmly at her.

“How are you feeling, Moira? “

“Alright. A bit woozy. Who was that you were speaking with?”

“Sorry, love?”

“I thought I heard voices.”

“That’s not unexpected – your brain is still trying to re-integrate a significant amount of information, so it makes sense that it’s acting up a bit. Are you at least starting to recall things more clearly?”

“Yes. I remember… Cerebro. And the children. The beach. God, Charles, I am so sorry.”

“Best to not dwell on it, I’ve learned. You have nothing to apologize for. Now, what else can you remember?”

“Magneto… used to be on our side?”

“He just went by Erik, then.” Charles smiled, the mix of sadness and fondness in the expression readily apparent. “He thought Raven’s nickname for him was rather ridiculous, at the time.”

“Right. You two were close, then. Had a nightly chess ritual, if I recall correctly.” Something clicked in her mind. “You were good friends. That’s why you let him go in DC.”

“They would have killed him. I couldn’t let that happen, Moira. Please tell me you understand that.”

“I do. And it doesn’t need to be something I share with anyone back at the agency. Just… swear to me you don’t know where he is now.”

“I promise you that I would never hold back any information that might lead to innocent people getting hurt.”

That was… not the same thing. But Moira supposed she could live with it for the time being while she figured out what she wanted to do next.

Charles seemed to be thinking along similar lines. “You’re free to leave, of course. Or to stay. I want to help you however I can.”

“Sad as it is, this is the only place I’ve ever felt at home. I’m not ready to fully trust you again, not yet, but I’ve always believed in your ideals. This school could really help people. It could save lives, even.  And being a part of that seems closer to what I want to be doing with my life than anything the Agency has to offer.”

“I’m thrilled to hear that. And I’d love to have you on the staff – I think having someone without a mutation who is willing to fight for the rights of mutants will be excellent for the students and, of course, I value your experience and advice. But… Can you just walk away from the CIA?”

“I’ve been thinking about that. I could call my boss and tell him that there’s nothing overtly suspicious, but the situation needs more monitoring. I can say I got you to agree to have ‘Beth’ stay on at the school for a while in an advisory capacity.”

“And you think he’d agree to that?”

“I figure either he’ll believe me or be so happy to have an excuse to get me out of his hair that he’ll sign off anyway.”

“I can assure you that you’ll be more highly valued here. Now, let me have Raven come in and bring you up to speed.”

“Raven?”

“Ah, right, ‘Mystique.’ I don’t know that I’ll ever get used to that name, to be honest.”

“But what is she doing here? Didn’t she go with Magneto?”

“You saw her save the president and his cabinet’s lives.  After that, I told her our doors were always open to her. It took her a few months, but she took me up on my offer.”

“And you’re sure you can trust her?”

“As sure as you can be about anyone. Now, let’s get you reacquainted.”

 

* * *

 

Less than a week in, Moira decided that things were almost perfect. As she charmed the real accreditation board and prepared materials on the status of various mutant legislation, she felt a sense of fulfillment that had escaped her for ten years. Hank and Alex had warmed back up to her quickly and Logan was full of fascinating stories once you got him talking. There clearly remained a feeling of mutual distrust between her and Raven, but Charles’s kindness and good humor kept things from getting uncomfortable.

Still, as she prepared for bed that evening, she had the nagging feeling that there was just one piece of the puzzle missing. Moira was far too practical and self aware to pretend that she didn’t know the answer. Hell, she’d known it since she’d walked into the mansion two weeks ago and found herself staring once again into those impossibly blue eyes. And, improbable as it might seem, she did trust him and had even gone so far as to forgive him. She may well have done the same thing in his position.

So, what was she waiting for? She was putting her life on the line to help a group of potentially deadly mutants. She sure as hell wasn’t going to be afraid of romance.

Her mind made up, Moira pulled a robe on over what she considered to be a passably attractive nightdress and slipped out of her room. She walked down the hall to Charles’s room and paused outside his door, giving herself a moment to steel her nerves. Taking a deep breath, she knocked and, hearing no response, she pushed it open and took a step into the darkened room.

Without warning, she felt something solid slam into her and pin her against the wall. She opened her mouth to scream, but then the lights flicked on and it took her mind a good thirty seconds to process what she was seeing. Magneto, fugitive mutant terrorist, was sitting in bed, shirtless, five feet away from her. And he was not happy.

“What are you doing here?” he growled.

The audacity of that was enough to replace Moira’s fear with outrage. “Excuse me? What are _you_ doing here?”

They watched each other warily for a moment and Moira felt good sense returning to her. She should probably play this cool – after all, he thought her memories were all gone. “Are you…?”

“I’m exhausted, Moira. Let’s not play games. We each know who the other is.”

“How do you know that? Where’s Charles? Oh, my God, did you hurt him?”

“What? No.” He placed two fingers to his temple in a gesture she found eerily familiar.

“Shit. You’re a telepath, too?”

Erik rolled his eyes. “It’s a rapport.”

Moira barely had time to wonder what he was talking about before Charles entered the room and froze, looking back and forth from her to Erik as if he couldn’t quite believe what he was seeing. She waited for him to get over the shock and be upset or angry or even afraid, but instead he just looked weary.

“Erik, let her go.”

“And how do you know that she’s not going to just run screaming the second I do?”

“I have faith she’ll be able to see reason once she hears a full explanation.”

“You have too much faith, my friend.”

“And you have too little. Please, let her go.”

What appeared to have once been a lamp moved slowly away from her until she was left standing against the wall of her own accord. Moira breathed a sigh of relief, then finally took the time to get her bearings. She blinked and was rather disappointed to find that the half-naked terrorist was still there in the bed, glaring at her like _she_ was the intruder here. She turned to Charles, who was running his hand through his hair, and stared at him until he relented and met her eyes.

“Well?”

“I’m sorry, love. I wasn’t entirely upfront with you earlier. I was concerned you wouldn’t understand.”

“Well, you were right to be concerned. I don’t. I eagerly await your explanation and it better be a damn good one.”

“I told you earlier, when I apologized for removing your memory, that I was a different man than I was ten years ago. And you accepted that. People change. Erik is also a different man than he was.”

“Oh, really? DC was less than three months ago.”

“Yes and things have changed since then.”

Moira gaped. She couldn’t help herself. Charles was one of the most reasonable people she knew. Why was he being so irrational?

She lowered her voice and tried to adopt a soothing tone. “Charles, could we talk a minute? Just you and I?”

Erik interjected, “Anything you have to say to him you can say in front of me.”

Moira returned his glare. “I didn’t ask you.”

Charles sighed. “Perhaps it would be best for us to all work this out together.”

“Fine. Charles, I know that you always had a soft spot for Magneto – Erik – and I know that you always try to see the good in people and believe the best of them. And I truly admire that, I do. But I hate to see you get taken advantage of. He’s a terrorist and a murderer, he took your sister and almost killed her, he nearly started World War III, not to mention…”

“Moira…”

“He paralyzed you!”

Charles looked away and, for a moment, none of them so much as breathed. The pained expression on Erik’s face was almost enough to make her think that he felt genuine remorse, but then again, sociopaths could be very convincing.

Moira tore her gaze away from Erik and approached Charles, kneeling before him and taking his hands in hers. “There has to come a point where a person’s actions outweigh any potential for good they may have. Potential is just potential until you do something with it.”

“Erik is…”

“Sure, maybe he’s doing something now, helping you plan the school or whatever, but how about in six months? In six weeks? How can you give him your room and a position on the staff and trust that he won’t hurt and abandon you all over again? I don’t want to turn you in or undermine what you’re trying to do with this school because it is so important, but I don’t understand, Charles. Please, help me understand.”

Charles took an unusually long time to respond. When he did speak, it was a murmur she had to lean forward to hear, “I’m not entirely sure I can do that.”

Moira felt a sudden rage course through her as she stood up and took a step back. “Good God, Charles. I want to help you so badly. All feelings aside, I do believe that you’re working for the best. I believe that we’ve treated you and mutants in general unfairly. I want to give you a chance, to give them a chance to have somewhere to go, to be, to have the support and training and camaraderie that we did before Cuba. But you are making it damn hard.”

Charles kept his gaze on his hands, looking pained.

“Get out.”

A trickle of fear went down her spine at the cold menace in Erik’s words. She moved towards the door and was about to exit when the anger overtook the fear and she couldn’t help herself from turning to Charles once again.

“You know I’m right, Charles. If anyone so much as caught a glimpse of him, this safe haven – everything you claim you’ve spent your life fighting for – will be lost in an instant. The fact that you’d be willing to give up on all of the students who need you so badly, the kids who have nowhere else to go, the self-loathing teenagers who feel like they have no chance in life – if you’re willing to turn your back on all of that, you’re not the man I thought you were.”

She couldn’t deny the feeling of satisfaction that came over her when Charles looked up at her, stricken, but she had no interest in gloating. She walked out the door without another word and slammed it behind her.

 

* * *

The next morning, it was all Moira could do to force herself to continue with her daily routine. It did no one any good for her to dwell on anger or disappointment or the deep sense of betrayal that she told herself was unfair.

When Charles entered the kitchen looking unusually drawn, she forced a polite smile and spoke to him in a clipped, professional tone. “I spoke to the accreditation board this morning. I had been using what little influence I have to move the process along, though I have to tell you I’m hesitant to continue doing so knowing that Magneto is here…”

Charles stared down into the sugar he was stirring into his tea and said dully, “He’s gone.”

“What?”

“Erik is gone. For good. We can’t risk the success of the school.”

Moira paused, surprised. “You really kicked him out? Because of what I said?”

“It was his decision, actually. He told me that we both knew that there is nothing that’s worth giving up everything we’ve spent our lives working for, especially not when we’re so close.  At first, I thought he was just trying to guilt me into altering your memory again, but then I realized that he meant it. He took the helmet and was gone before dawn.”

Moira could tell that Charles was disappointed, but she told herself that he would get over it soon enough. As such, she couldn’t help smiling and tried not to sound overly triumphant as she said, “I’m very glad to hear that. In that case, I’m happy to tell you that it sounds like you’ll be accredited within the month! I’m so happy for you, Charles. You’ll finally be able to live out your dream.”

Instead of lighting up as she had hoped, Charles gazed past her and muttered, “Our dream.”

“Excuse me?”

“It was our dream. Erik’s and mine. We were supposed to run it together. We compliment each other, balance out each other’s weaknesses. I don’t know if I can do it on my own.”

 Moira struggled not to roll her eyes and adopted a reassuring tone as she said, “Just remember, it was his decision and it’s for the best. You’ll be fine, Charles.”

 

* * *

But, as the days dragged on, Moira found that she wasn’t so sure he would be. Charles seemed to grow more depressed and withdrawn – there were days she barely saw him at all and she had overheard Hank and Raven whisper concerns that he was drinking again.

This whispering only intensified after an incident in Charles’s office during what was supposed to be a simple review of the grade-level curricula with the staff. Alex read the agreement that had been hammered out the week before regarding combat training for students under sixteen years of age – all had agreed that it was sadly necessary and that, under careful adult supervision, students could practice the use of their powers in a defensive capacity only. The matter had been debated incessantly, but everyone decided they could live with this solution, and Moira got the impression that Magneto had played a large role in all of this. As such, all were taken aback when Charles raised a hand in protest and announced that, on second thought, he felt there should be no combat training of any kind for anyone under eighteen. He then proceeded to ignore all arguments to the contrary, closing the matter by declaring that it was his school, he was the sole person in charge, and his decision was final. He then left the room, completely ignoring the consternation of everyone else present.

So Moira was concerned. However, it appeared there was nothing she could do except carry on, so she narrowed her focus to making sure the accreditation came through. She could only hope that finally getting the place up and running would snap Charles out of whatever funk he was in.

She was completing the last of the paperwork when Charles stumbled in and collapsed into the chair at the end of the table. She glanced up to see him looking haggard and pushed a cup of coffee towards him, then went back to the form. It took a full minute for her to process what was odd about the situation.

“Charles!”           

“Moira, could you keep your voice down? You’re being very loud for…” He glanced down at his watch. “Two o’clock in the afternoon.”

“Charles, you were walking! How…?”

Charles waved his hand in a vague gesture of dismissal. “Don’t mention it.”

Moira spotted Hank just down the hall and called out to him. “Hank! Charles is walking!”

Hank rushed into the room with a look of alarm on his face.

Charles looked refused to meet his gaze and muttered, “I said not to mention it.”

“Charles, tell me you didn’t.”

“I needed it to stop, Hank.”

“What? I thought we were past this. You were fine…”

“I was past it. Can’t say I was ever fine, though. Hate to break it to you, chap, but a six-year-long addiction doesn’t just go away because you want it to. It’s a lot for one person to bear.”

Moira stiffened. “I’m sorry, did you just say ‘addiction’? Why haven’t I heard about this before? I’m filling out paperwork saying you’re fit to be…”

Hank shook his head abruptly, silencing her, then turned back to Charles. “I’m sure it is, Charles,” he said soothingly, “but you seemed to be doing so well.”

“Yes, well, I had help.”

“You know all of us are happy to do anything you need to help.”

“Well, this helps,” Charles snapped. “You didn’t seem to have a problem being my enabler before. No reason to pick now to grow a spine.”

Hank froze, stung, before turning and walking out of the room.

Moira glared at Charles. “Why the hell was that? He was only trying to help. You’ve been a complete dick to everyone for the past week and all we’ve been trying to do is help you.”

“There’s only one person who can help me and you made him go away.”

“Please, be reasonable, Charles.” Moira took a deep breath and reminded herself of her psychology training. In what she hoped was a suitably calm and sympathetic tone, she continued, “I’m sure you’re in a lot of pain and I know you had a - what’s the word you keep using? Special rapport? – with Erik,  but you can at least talk to me, see if I can help you.”

“It’s no use.”

“And how do you know without even trying?”

“Because I’m not in love with you.”

Moira struggled to keep her face neutral despite the wave of hurt that washed over her at the words. “Now you’re just being cruel.”

“I’m not being cruel, Moira, I’m giving you an explanation. I love him, that’s why there’s a psychic rapport there.”

She rolled her eyes. “Charles, I know you consider him an especially close friend, but that doesn’t mean…”

“You’re still not getting it, are you? I _love_ him. I am in love with Erik. He is my lover. Do you take my meaning, now?”

Moira gaped. She must be misunderstanding him somehow, there was no possible way he could mean what she thought he meant.

But, then again…

She combed through her recently re-acquired memories. She saw loaded glances, shared smiles, brief touches that lingered a little too long to be casual. And all of that was not to mention that she had stumbled upon Erik half-dressed in Charles’s own bed. She cursed under her breath. How could she have been so stupid, so willfully ignorant?

Charles laughed bitterly. “Ah, there we go. Now you know the terrible truth. Go. Run. Keep the children away. Better to be a terrorist than _that_ , right?”

“No. No, of course not, I just don’t understand… Why don’t you hate him? How can you have forgiven him for everything he’s done, all the pain he’s caused? He ruined your life. He took something irretrievable from you, betrayed your trust countless time over…”

“Don’t you think I know how much easier my life would be if I could just let him go and move on with my life? But if it didn’t happen after ten years apart, it seems unlikely to happen now. For better or worse - mostly worse, as it happens – I love him. I probably always will.”

Charles went silent and seemed to drift off into his own world, which was for the best. Moira didn’t think she could stand another minute in the same room as him. Shoving her chair back with more force than was strictly necessary, she rose and strode out of the kitchen without a backwards glance.

 

* * *

Moira leaned over the balcony, looking out at the satellite dish that, if she recalled correctly, Charles had taught Erik to move. She had looked out the window and seen how close they were standing, the lingering of a hand on an arm. It all seemed so obvious now, but at the time she had thought nothing of it. Her memories seen in this new light seemed to torture her, highlighting her willful blindness. She told herself that she refused to cry over this to no avail.

“Bad day?”

Moira jumped and tried to wipe the tears from her cheeks before turning to find Logan standing next to her and looking down with concern.

“Oh, I’m fine,” she said, as breezily as she could manage.

“Is that so? Heard you had a rough talk with Chuck.”

He smirked, but Moira couldn’t bring herself to smile in return. “Did you know? That Magneto and the Professor were….”

“Fucking? Yeah, sure. Who didn’t?”

Moira felt herself turning red. “God, you must think I’m such an idiot for even thinking...”

“Nah, don’t beat yourself up. He dated mostly women before and exclusively women after, that is, when he wasn’t living life a monk.”

“After?”

“Long story. Bottom line is, you love him, and it sucks. But you’ll get over it and you’ll move on. And that’s a good thing! No matter what timeline we’re in, from the second they meet their lives revolve around each other. Doesn’t matter whether they’re on the same side or fighting against each other or some annoyingly complicated mixture of both. I don’t give a shit about the romance of it all. But I do know that we’re all better off for it when they’re together.”

“Even so, how can you stand it? Working with Magneto, I mean. Charles has his own reasons for forgiving him so quickly, but just a few months ago, he shoved metal through your body and tried to drown you in a river. How do you make peace with that? How could you have forgiven him?”

“Forgive is a strong word. More like, we reached an understanding.”

“And how did that happen?”

“Well, it started when he showed up bleeding at the door one night…”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Up Next: Logan reflects on how this whole messy situation came to be in the first place.


	2. Interlude: Charles

**Interlude: Charles**

It wasn’t her fault.

He told himself this over and over again, hoping that he could get the idea to penetrate his brain before he had to go downstairs and face her.

He had no right to be angry.

Moira was completely correct in asserting that Erik’s presence at the school had the potential to bring the whole endeavor crashing down around them. It should have been obvious sooner - they had been so caught up in the excitement of rediscovering each other that they let themselves believe it was something that could last. All Moira’s discovery had done was bring about the inevitable. So it was probably for the best. He should be thanking her.

And yet.

Was this really his lot in life? His older self had spoken of his strength being the ability to bear the pain of others without breaking. But what about him? Was he not allowed to have someone to help him bear his own pain? Was that just something he had to become resigned to?

He couldn’t allow himself to think like this. He had a responsibility to his staff and to the children who would, with Moira’s help, be arriving in just a month’s time. There was no time for self-pity.

Resolved, Charles sat up in bed.

He lay back down almost immediately, bracing himself against the sudden headache. It seemed that his brain had unconsciously reached out for its partner and, finding none, protested the loss. It felt like there was a gaping hole in his consciousness, like an integral piece of himself had gone missing, and it itched and ached like a phantom limb.

He should have known. He should have never allowed this to happen. But he had been so surprised by Erik’s reaction after he admitted to him that it seemed he had unintentionally created a psychic rapport between them. Charles had expected Erik to panic, even bolt, and was shocked when, instead, his thoughtful look turned into a slow smile. They were already linked and he was pretty sure it was permanent whether they wanted it to be or not, so why fight it? Charles had broken into a grin and kissed him until all his lingering doubts had drifted away.

So, really, all of this was his own fault.

Grimacing, Charles forced himself to sit up again. He transferred himself to his chair and went over to the drawer where he kept his emergency supply of bourbon, studiously avoiding looking at the unfinished chess game on the table by the window. He took a bottle from the cabinet. He had clear memory of Erik cautioning him against the use of substances while he was still in recovery, but Charles decided that this was a special circumstance and required an exception. It would be just one, after all. And it was just bourbon, it wasn’t like he was back on the drug. Just one.

 

 

* * *

Three glasses later, he was able to go downstairs and speak to Moira. He justified his decision by deciding that he wouldn’t otherwise have been able to get through that painful conversation without doing or saying something he would regret.

He had another glass when he returned to his room that afternoon, just so he could relax enough to be pleasant in the staff meeting. Moira kept smiling over at him, like she was proud of what she had done, like she thought she could take Erik’s place. As if any of them could. She had joined Alex, Hank, and Logan in arguing for more extensive combat training for the younger students, but their words all seemed to blur together with their thoughts. A concerning number of those thoughts were about him, wondering if he was okay, why he seemed off, had he been drinking?

Charles shut them out forcefully and said that there would be none of that training for anyone under eighteen - if their powers were only useful in combat situations, he would simply shut them down until they reached that age. Alex seemed to take a great deal of offense at this. Hank began to point out that this was a step back from the compromise Erik had gotten them to just a few days ago, but Raven silenced him with a look. Still, before he could stop, Charles found himself saying forcefully that Erik wasn’t here anymore and there was a reason for that. He was in charge now and his decision was final.

The confusion and concern radiating off of all of them was loud enough to penetrate the haze surrounding his mind. Charles almost felt ashamed, but he told himself that he was on his own in this now, he couldn’t show weakness, so he straightened in his chair and left the room in silence.

 

* * *

 

After his third morning in a row waking up from a nightmare about drowning and reaching out for comfort and feeling despair wash over him when he found none, Charles decided that enough was enough. His school was opening in three weeks, goddammit, and he didn’t have time for this pathetic scrambling. His powers seemed to have taken on a life of their own and the drinking he did to keep them at bay only seemed to make the voices louder.

He had gotten like this a few times after Erik had come back – an after-effect of the six-year addiction, Hank had explained guiltily, refusing to meet Erik’s livid glare. But Erik had simply taken Charles in his arms and carried him to bed, lying next to him so that their foreheads were touching and telling him that it was okay to share the pain, he was strong enough to take it. And they had both cried in each other’s arms until Charles’s sobs of pain turned into whimpers of relief and he kissed Erik and held him tightly and promised himself that he’d never let him go again.  

But now here he was, alone. Again. Erik may have been strong enough to take the pain, but Charles wasn’t. He wouldn’t be able to think straight until he could get some peace and he knew of only one sure way to get it.

Charles yanked open the drawer of his nightstand and pressed against the back until the panel popped off. He reached in past it and removed some rubber tubing and a syringe of Hank’s medicine that he had held on to “just in case.” He shoved the voices in his head telling him this was a bad idea to the side and let his hands fall into the routine. 

He let out a sigh of relief as the blissful silence engulfed him.

 

* * *

 

Charles’s memory of the next few days was hazy.

He did remember Logan coming to talk to him. Logan, of all people, started to lecture him on responsibility. Charles tried to out and end to it by shocking him in the same way he had Moira, but Logan cut him off to say that he didn’t give a shit if Erik was his brother, lover, or fairy godmother, the fact was that Charles was being self-destructive.

He continued that the world’s most powerful telepath should be more than capable of keeping someone hidden and, if he had to erase a few memories along the way, it wasn’t that big a deal.

When Charles protested that it would be immoral, Logan cut him off again and declared that what was immoral was not giving those kids his very best and, if that included Erik, he damn well better find a way to make that work.

Charles replayed that sentence over in his brain for long after Logan had left. After all, he could be right. Maybe there was a future where he and Erik could be together and safe and happy. Maybe they could change the world side by side, teaching students a middle way between fear and violence. Maybe Charles was strong enough to keep it together and make things work.

But maybe that was just the drugs talking.


	3. Logan

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Logan reflects on Erik's rocky arrival at the mansion after DC.

** Logan**

When Logan opened the door to find a bleeding Magneto on the porch, his first instinct was to punch him and slam the door in his face.

And he would have done just that if Charles hadn’t chosen that exact moment to roll into the hall. Charles stopped to stare in shock and Magneto stared back at him. Logan was sure they must be having some mental conversation they weren’t letting him in on, but after nearly five minutes of the staring, he decided enough was enough and pulled Magneto inside. The man raised his hand, presumably to grab for the metal in Logan’s belt buckle, and then promptly passed out on the floor.

Charles gasped and hurried over to him, yelling for Hank and leaning down to check his pulse. He understood when Charles then moved to loosen Magneto’s collar, but was unclear what medical purpose running his hands through his hair served. It almost seemed…

No. The Professor had been one of his closest friends, he would have known if the man was a queer. Then again, he supposed it had never really come up. What would he have asked – _oh, hey professor, did you used to bone the guy who’s our mortal enemy?_ Ridiculous.

Logan begrudgingly carried Magneto upstairs at Charles’s request and deposited him none too softly on the bed in one of the guest rooms. The Professor wheeled over to the bedside and apparently sent a telepathic signal to McCoy, as the doctor arrived in the room shortly after and began to tend to Magneto’s wounds.

Erik’s wounds.

Here, broken and helpless, helmet and cape nowhere in sight, the man seemed far removed from the powerful and dangerous villain Logan knew Magneto. Logan was all too familiar with wounds of various kinds and he can tell that, untreated, Erik wouldn’t make it through night.

Despite this apparent weakness, Logan stayed vigilant. He still had nightmares about waking up drowning and in excruciating pain, metal piercing his skin and snaking through his guts and bones. No matter what happened next, he would never forget what the man lying in front of him was capable of.

Hank finished wrapping Erik’s arm in a sling and gave the bandages on his head a final once over before nodding to Charles and leaving the room. Charles glanced at Logan and gestured to the door, dismissing him, but Logan refused to leave. Erik had always been Charles’s weakness and, if the dull memories Logan retained from his future self were any indication, he always would be. The Professor could take pity and see the best in people all he wanted, but Logan would be there to make sure he wasn’t ever taken advantage of for it.

So Logan crossed his arms and leaned back against the wall, watching as Charles spoke softly to Erik, asking what he was thinking. With a wince, Erik mumbled, “Look for yourself.” Charles’s eyes widened in surprise and he hesitated. Logan began to caution him against it, but Charles ignored him. With a deep breath, he reached over and touched his fingers to Erik’s temple.

They stayed like that, silent, for what Logan felt was an uncomfortably long time. He was drifting off, but started awake at a gasp of breath. Charles was still there, eyes closed, both hands on Erik’s face now, foreheads touching. Both men had tears streaking down their cheeks.

Logan was suddenly hit with a strange sense of déjà vu, a feeling he had come to associate with memories from his future consciousness being triggered. As if through a fog, an image formed of the Professor and Magneto, older, after everything but before the end.

 They were crying then, too, in nearly identical positions. Logan had been standing nearby exchanging glances with Storm and Kitty, all trying to decide if it would be more awkward to leave the room or to stay. Eventually, the older men had parted, dried their eyes, and, in a firm tone, the Professor had informed them that Magneto would be staying and fighting by their side from this point forward.

The others looked skeptical, but Logan was the only one willing to voice his concern. He cautioned him against being overly trusting of the man who had hurt and betrayed them so many times over.

“I can see into his mind, Logan,” the Professor had said. “And, more importantly, I know his heart.” And that was that.

Logan felt no less concerned now, but he doubted this younger version of Charles would be any easier to sway, so he stayed quiet for the time being.

Charles stroked Erik’s hair until he fell asleep. Only then did he finally seem to remember that Logan was in the room. Charles went over to him and lowered his voice to inform him that Erik would be staying with them from now on.

“Is that really such a good idea, Professor? You, of all people, know what he’s capable of.”

“I do.”

“How do we know he’s not going to turn around the minute he gets his strength back and screw us over again?”

To Logan’s surprise, a smile crossed Charles’s face at that. “Don’t forget – I can see into his mind, Logan. And, more importantly, I know his heart.”

Logan was shocked into silence as Charles turned to head out of the room.

 

* * *

Logan managed to avoid the mostly-bedridden Erik for the next week, but his luck ran out the next Sunday when he entered the library in search of Charles and instead found Erik. The man looked significantly improved and was laying on the couch reading Charles’s curriculum proposal, chuckling to himself.

“He’s a brilliant man, but he’s hopelessly naïve about some things.”

Logan bristled. “Hey, don’t talk shit about the Prof behind his back.”

“Oh, I’d happily say that to his face. I have, in fact, in a multitude of ways. And yet, here he is, claiming that the students won’t need combat training until they’re sixteen. That’s patently ridiculous – the school will inevitably be attacked and we can’t afford to have students running around in a blind panic, incapable of defending themselves. Tell me I’m wrong.”

Logan wanted nothing more than to do exactly that. But his instincts, not to mention the memory flashes he had of students screaming and crying helplessly. ‘You’re not wrong,” he gritted.

Erik looked obnoxiously smug about this. “Seems I was right about quite a bit, doesn’t it?”

“Did I forget to mention that at least half those attacks were carried out by you and your cronies?”

“Oh, I end up with cronies? Good for me.”

“Seems you start off early being an arrogant dick. Your plans all fail, by the way. We defeat you every time you haven’t already screwed yourself over. You can think of yourself as some brilliant tactician all you want, but at the end of the day, you’re just another villain.”

“Villain is a strong word, isn’t it?”

“Not for what you do.”

“You said your bones were covered in metal in that future?”

Logan nodded, not sure he wanted to know where he was going with this.

“I’m sure I had some fun with that. But, tell me, Logan. Did I ever use the metal in your body to tear you limb from limb and crush you into hundreds of little pieces and scatter them to the ends of the earth to see how your healing factor would handle that?” He asked this with a calmness that chilled Logan to his core.

“No,” Logan replied gruffly. He was grateful for the reminder that the man sitting here in a borrowed cardigan and a cast was a complete and utter sociopath.

“So, you see? I couldn’t have been all bad. Because, I promise you, it occurred to me.”

“You did enough. Even in this lifetime. Do you think I’ve forgotten what you did to me in DC?”

“Well, you’re here, aren’t you?” Erik asked irritably. “How do you think Mystique knew where to look for you?”

“You…” Logan blinked and tried to cover his surprised reaction by snapping, “Is that supposed to make it all better? “

“I don’t particularly care.”

“I will never understand what Charles sees in you.”

Erik shrugged and turns back to his paper. “All that matters is that Charles sees it.”

“That’s not _all_ that matters, bub. That’s one thing the professor forgets, sometimes. At the end of the day, it doesn’t matter what’s going on in your head if the way you act is terrible.”

Erik remained silent, looking thoughtful.

“That actually hit a nerve?”

He shrugged again. “It’s just a surprise – perhaps you aren’t as entirely idiotic as you appear.”

Enough was enough. Logan stormed out, clamming the door behind him and moving so quickly he nearly tripped over Charles.

Charles looked up at him in surprise. Logan was sure he was scanning his mind for a quick recap of events, but he spoke anyway and with a great deal of force. “That man is a fucking psychopath.”

“Come now, Logan. You don’t know what he’s been through.”

“We all have our own shit to deal with and most of us are capable of dealing with it without becoming murderous assholes. What, I’m supposed to feel bad because his mother didn’t hug him enough as a child.”

Charles’s face paled. “Logan, in the future, did I never tell you…?”

“Tell me what?”

“Come with me.”

Charles pulled Logan back into the library. Erik looked up from the paper and raised an eyebrow. He and Charles locked eyes and Logan could only assume they were having some sort of mental conversation. It lasted for a few moments, then Charles said aloud, “Logan fought in the second World War, Erik. He was one of the first in to liberate Auschwitz.”

Erik stilled.

Logan had no idea what was going on, but it made him uncomfortable. “I don’t see what any of this has to do with…”

“Just show him,” Erik said in a clipped tone, still looking only at Charles.  
  
“Are you certain, Erik?”  
  
“No. Now do it before I change my mind.”

Logan’s vision clouded and then he found himself back in the camp. But this was before he’d gotten there, when it was still operating at full capacity, and he was terrified. Two prisoners he’d never seen before but somehow recognized as his parents were locked behind a fence and he reached out towards it, desperately. And then the metal began to move.

Images began to flash before him quickly, then: a sadistic smile, a coin, the flash of a gun, and pain, so much pain he wasn’t sure he could bear it…

And then, blessedly, nothing. He opened his eyes and was back in the library, silent except for his heavy breathing and the sound of his racing heart. He glanced past Charles, wiping away tears, and found Erik sitting on the couch, slumped forward, head in his hands.

The three men stayed like that, in silence, for what felt like an eternity. When Logan opened his mouth to speak, it took him a few attempts to get his voice to work properly. “I…”  
  
“You don't have to say it.” Erik gritted, getting to his feet. “In your future, hell, maybe even in this one, I become what I most hated. The irony is not lost on me.”

Erik began to walk out of the room and Charles opened his mouth, but it was Logan who said, “Wait.”  
  
Both men turned to him.

“Mag… Erik. What I was going to say was- I wish we would have gotten there sooner.”  
  
Erik met his eyes and blinked before responding, so softly that even Logan could barely hear it, “Me too.” He looked away, refusing to meet Logan’s eyes, as he continued, “You were right about DC. I went too far.”

Logan nodded in acknowledgement, then turned to leave the room. He found Charles looking at him beseechingly. “What, you’re not expecting me to forgive him for that, are you?”

“Forgiveness is about…”

Erik cut Charles off, stopping just short of rolling his eyes. “Of course he wouldn’t.” He glanced at Logan. “I wouldn’t forgive you, if you’d done that to me. Doesn’t mean we can’t work together.”

“Exactly. That’s the best you’re gonna get, Professor.”

Charles smiled ruefully. “More than I should have expected, I suppose. Ah, well. One can always hope for the best.”

Logan looked between them and shook his head. “How the hell do you put up with him?”

Charles cocked his head. “Which of us are you addressing, Logan?”

“I don’t even know.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Up Next: Moira and Raven begrudgingly go on the road to search for Erik.


	4. Interlude: Erik

**Interlude: Erik**

He stayed because he was weak.

That was the only explanation Erik could come up with for why he was still here despite the fact that his arm had been all but healed weeks ago. Every day, he walked around the mansion enduring looks of anger and distrust and decided that he would leave the next day.

And every night, he changed his mind.

It was clearly weakness. Someone else was inside Erik’s head and, not only was he not fighting it, he had welcomed it with open arms. He caught himself reaching out at various points throughout the day just to check in and he found the constant presence of Charles’s mind nearby inordinately calming.

Shaw had always warned him that love could destroy you. It could break down your walls and leave you vulnerable, it clouded your judgment, it gave you a false sense of peace and kept you from achieving your full potential. Not that Shaw was any great model of how to live, but it was hard to let go of lessons that had served you well for so many years.

And so, Erik wondered. While he was here enjoying a stroll in the gardens or a late night game of chess by the fire, who was out in the cold and the mud fighting for all the mutants who were unable to defend themselves? Who was showing the humans that they couldn’t continue their oppression, that seeking to destroy mutantkind would only hasten their own destruction? Was anyone?

It should be him.

The school was all well and good. Of course Erik believed in the importance of a safe place for young mutants to learn to respect themselves and embrace their powers, but that was Charles’s domain. Charles radiated a warmth and intelligence that inspired confidence in all around him. And, despite his protestations to the contrary, Erik was well aware that not only did he not possess those gifts, but that his very presence hindered Charles’s. Every time Charles defended Erik to his teachers, Erik saw their faith in their leader falter.

It got to the point that Erik mentally snapped at Charles to just stop and tell them that he knew Erik was dangerous and of course he didn’t trust him and that’s why he wasn’t allowed to have his helmet, but he could be useful. Charles had reluctantly acquiesced. Mollified, the group stopped pushing for Erik’s removal, but maintained their barely concealed hostility towards him. Even after he and Logan had reached something resembling an understanding, the brute never let him forget that he wasn’t welcome.

 _Fair enough_ , Erik thought. _I wouldn’t want me here, either._

He should leave. He was fully aware of this. He should grab his helmet and take off into the night and never look back. And yet…

Early on in his stay, Erik and Charles had sat down and decided, very responsibly, that they would keep their relationship strictly platonic. Yes, there were feelings between them, but they were no longer young men who would be ruled by their desires – everything was complicated enough as it was. Professor X and Magneto were the steady and staid leaders of the next generation of mutants and they would absolutely, positively not indulge in anything that might detract from that.

An hour later, they were in bed.

It hadn’t been on purpose. Charles had casually reached over to refill Erik’s glass and their fingers had brushed. It was like an electric spark went through them both. The rapport created a dizzying feedback loop that intensified until Erik couldn’t stop himself from pulling Charles to him and kissing him soundly. The next thing they knew, they were panting and sweating and gasping each other’s names. 

After, Charles had needed to apologize to an extremely pissed-off Mystique, who had apparently not appreciated passing out and then waking up to discover all of her exercise equipment crumpled in on itself.

Erik and Charles decided that they had to be more careful, but agreed that it was unreasonable to expect that they would stay away from each other completely. Practice, Charles had declared sagely, was the only thing for it. Erik readily agreed.

And here he was.

He almost would have preferred if it were just about the sex. That would be lazy and selfish, yes, but at least there was some logic to it, a primal instinct Erik could blame for making him not want to leave behind good food and a warm bed every night. The reality was far more troubling. There was something greater going on here, a feeling overtaking him that he uneasily suspected was love, and maybe the even more foreign sensation of contentment. Erik started to wonder if he might be coming dangerously close to being dependent on Charles, but the idea was far too upsetting for him to pursue.

One time, when he was thinking along these lines, Erik glanced over at Charles and found him watching Erik from the bed and smiling sadly. Erik had no interest in pity, so he scowled and counted loudly in German in his head to block out anything from getting through.

When Erik looked up, he saw Charles frowning into his book and trying not to seem hurt. Before he could even form a coherent thought, Erik had risen from his armchair and climbed into the bed next to Charles, taking him in his arms. Charles stilled and tried to keep up the pretense of reading until Erik knocked the book from his hands and pulled him closer. Charles relaxed into Erik’s embrace and closed his eyes, resting his head on Erik’s chest.

Erik felt a smile play across his lips. He flicked off the light with a twitch of his finger and allowed himself a moment to simply enjoy the warmth of Charles’s body next to his and the beautiful peace of his mind.

 _Still_ , Erik thought to himself as he drifted off. _He must know as well as I do that this is unsustainable._ If there were any rumblings to the contrary, Erik ignored them and let himself fall asleep.

* * *

When Moira discovered Erik and declared that his presence put everything Charles stood for at risk, she wasn’t telling him anything new. But hearing it aloud seemed to snap him out of the calm place he’d allowed himself to bask in for too long. She barely had time to slam the door before he was up and getting dressed. Charles pleaded with him not to go, first out loud and then in his mind, but Erik would not allow himself to be swayed.

The heartbroken look in Charles’s eyes when Erik reached out and summoned his helmet into his hands was nearly enough to break him, but Erik reminded himself that there was too much at stake here. He should be out there fighting for mutantkind and, moreover, he’d be damned if he was the cause of Charles’s dream going down in flames. So he turned and donned the helmet.

It felt like dying. He wasn’t sure how his mind had managed to grow so entangled with Charles’s over the course of just a few weeks, but the abrupt loss of Charles’s presence left Erik completely disoriented. He felt suddenly empty, cold and bereft. And it would be so easy to take the helmet off and step back into the warm and comforting light that was Charles.

Still, he did not look back.

It was, perhaps, the first completely selfless act of Erik’s life.

It was also a huge mistake.


	5. Raven

**Raven**

 

As far as she could tell, Charles and Erik had fallen in love at first sight.

Or, rather, first touch of minds, after her brother idiotically dove off a ship to save him. She had no doubt that they were fucking by the time they returned from their recruitment trip, if the number of nights they spent behind closed doors “playing chess” was any indication. At least, she hoped they had been. If they’d really just been playing chess while clearly wanting each other desperately all those nights, it would just be too sad.

Either way, she had never seen two people become the center of each other’s worlds so quickly. Even when they had been apart for long stretches of time, they seemed to define their lives as much by the other’s absence as by anything they were doing on their own. And after having screwed up their first two chance up spectacularly, they had another chance to finally get things right.

It was all rather romantic, if you liked that sort of thing.

Raven did not.

And yet, here she was, stuck in a car for hours with Moira MacTaggert, of all people, on her way to find Erik and reunite the couple.

 

* * *

 

Raven had been shocked and appalled when she returned from her two-week trip to learn that Erik was gone and Charles had relapsed. She had stormed into Charles’s room with Hank, Alex, and Logan in tow, not even bothering to knock. Charles looked up at her from where he was sprawled on the floor, half-dressed and bleary-eyed, and she shook her head in disgust.

Before he could get a word in, she barked, “Alex, Hank, get in here and remove every last ounce of alcohol and serum in this room.”

“They will do no such thing!” Charles protested.

The men hesitated until Raven fixed them with the death glare she’d spent years perfecting and was rather proud of. With an awkward shuffle and a “Sorry, Prof,” they set about turning the room upside down to make sure they uncovered everything.

With Logan’s help, Raven pulled a belligerent Charles onto the bed. She was more than ready to lay into him, but decided to wait to tell him how much of a complete moron he was when he was at least semi-coherent. Instead, she asked Logan to watch him carefully and beckoned to Hank to follow her outside.

“I’m so sorry,” he stammered. “I had no idea he even had any left! And I thought he was better. I have no idea what to do now.”

Raven couldn’t help herself from placing a comforting hand on his arm. “It’ll be alright, Hank. It’s not your fault. And I know exactly what to do.”

“Oh?”

“I’m going to bring Erik back.”

“Erik? Erik as in our on and off arch-enemy ‘Magneto’? Do you really think him being here would make enough of a difference to warrant all the risks in entails? And regardless, no one knows where he is – he has that helmet, so even if the Professor was off the drugs, he couldn’t find him.”

“Erik and I were… close for awhile. I have a pretty good idea. There’s an abandoned iron mining town a few hours upstate. He likes being around all that metal. And him coming back here will make all the difference in the world to Charles. Just trust me on that one.”

He was still looking at her blankly. She told herself firmly that she did not find his obliviousness adorable and quickly took her hand off his arm.

Raven then located Moira in the kitchen and pulled her along to the garage, informing her that she would be coming with her to get Erik back.

Moira gaped at her. “Do you really think I’m the best-equipped person to accompany you on this particular mission?”

“Do you really think I care?  This is your mess and you’re going to help me clean it up. Get in the car.”

 

* * *

  

Raven had begun shaking her head a few minutes into Moira’s story and was full-on rolling her eyes in disgust by the end of it. “You’re such a bitch. Erik’s not evil, you know. He has his reasons, some of them damn good ones.”

Moira winced and took a sudden intense interest in the seemingly endless sea of pine trees around them as they approached the Adirondacks. “I’ve learned a lot now that I was unaware of at the time. Not that it necessarily changes the situation…”

“But I don’t see how you could think it was the right thing to drive him away from somewhere positive and supportive if you knew…”

“I didn’t know anything! I had no idea he was gay or Jewish or a Holocaust survivor.”

“So, why did you think he did what he did? You thought he was just a crazy person? You thought I left my whole life behind me to follow a crazy person?”

“Well, an attractive crazy person.”

“Oh, good God. He’s not, by the way. Crazy, I mean. I guess he’s attractive if you’re into that whole tall, dark, and handsome thing. But he’s not crazy.”

“Really?” Skepticism crept into Moira’s voice and her curiosity seemed to outweigh her fear of Raven’s temper. “You don’t think that the way he – and Charles, come to think of it – have acted in the past few weeks seems… less than stable?”

“Oh, absolutely. But that’s just them. They’re like... every cloying love song you’ve ever heard. Every poem about burning and longing, every story that tells you that people are incomplete without one another. I don’t believe in soul mates, but that’s the only way to describe it. They only feel whole when they’re together.”

Moira sighed. “It sounds rather romantic, when you put it like that.”

“It’s fucking mental, is what it is. In real life, those aren’t the ingredients for a fairytale, Moira. They’re the setup for a tragedy. You can fantasize, but you don’t really want that. You want nice, you want simple. You want a charming British professor with an easy smile and a passion for teaching.”

“I wouldn’t say…”

“You definitely don’t want a man so powerful that he could stop the world with a thought and so broken that he might actually do it if he wasn’t drowning in alcohol and drugs. You don’t want someone who can be effortlessly condescending and superior, who’s so stubborn he’d cut off his nose to spite his face, who’s the most irritating mix possible of naïve and ruthless.”

Raven glanced pointedly at Moira, who made no response, so she continued. “You’re a stable, healthy person, Moira. You have the potential to be happy one day. You don’t want all of that ridiculousness. Only someone crazy, maybe even dangerously unstable, would. Enter Erik.”

Moira remained quiet as Raven pulled into a tiny gas station on the side of the road. It had a sign declaring itself the “last fueling station for 83 miles,” which was specific enough for Raven to take seriously.  She stopped the car next to one of the pumps and reached over to grab her purse. Before she could get out of the car, Moira broke the silence.

“Hey, Raven? Look, I hear you. But you have to understand wanting someone who loves you enduringly and unconditionally. Or at least, who cares for you enough to always be looking out for you and have your back. Wanting that doesn’t make you weak.”

Raven smirked. “Get a dog. I have no interest in being codependent, thanks.” She glanced around the lot until she spotted a payphone. “Now, while you go in to pay for gas, I need to check in on Hank. He gets nervous when he doesn’t hear from me for too long.”

Moira shot her a pointed look.

“Not a word,” Raven muttered.

 

* * *

 

When they returned to the car, Raven gestured for Moira to take the wheel. They were getting close to Tahawus and she had to reserve her strength for what she was sure would be a long and tiresome argument with Erik.

“How’s Charles doing?” Moira asked once they were on their way again.  

“Not great. If Charles hadn’t hobbled his own powers, I’d be concerned. But the guys seem to have it under control for now.”

“I can sort of see what you were saying about unhealthy love.”

“Even so, I can’t believe he spiraled out of control that fast.” Raven sighed. “Well, at least we know now which of us leaving really drove Charles into a depression.”

“Oh, I’m sure you were a big part of it.”

Raven snorted. “Are you saying that my brother being a depressed drug addict for years was partly my fault?”

“No. Yes? I feel like there’s no right thing for me to say here.”

“Now you’re catching on.”

“I understand perfectly well that you’d like me to just shut up and put on music, but I need to know something important. If I may be so bold, how do you know he’ll talk to you?”

“Erik and I have… an understanding.”

“You…” Moira paused, then understanding flashed across her face. “Oh, my God, you slept together, didn’t you?”

Raven shrugged and replied flippantly, “We were both sad and lonely and hot. Neither of us thought it was anything more.” Her tone darkened as she added, “At least, that became clear eventually. I didn’t know about him and Charles at the time.”

“So he never asked you to…” Moira blushed. “Sorry, that’s way over the line.”

“No, Moira, he never asked me to shape-shift into my brother. Fuck, I may have lusted after my adoptive brother for years and then slept with his boyfriend for a while, but I’m not a pervert.”

“Clearly,” Moira responded drily.

Raven laughed. “You’re not so bad when you loosen up.” She paused a moment, then added thoughtfully, “He would keep the helmet on the whole time, though. That probably should have been my first clue, in retrospect.”

They both cracked up at that and continued driving companionably for a while until Moira, seeming unable to help herself, asked, “How did you find out? About Erik and Charles?”

Raven sighed. That night wasn’t something she enjoyed dwelling on but she was determined to prove that the memory no longer had any power over her.

“The night before Kennedy was killed, the Brotherhood was camped out at a base in the Rockies. We had heard whispers that Kennedy was like us and that someone was going to try to assassinate him for it. Erik was getting ready to leave for Dallas that night – I wanted to join him, bit he insisted on being the only one to go. We all knew how dangerous it was, how the police had begun carrying plastic guns and the like, but he insisted and you know how stubborn he gets…”

“I am well aware.”

“Right. Anyway, he asked to speak to me alone before he left. He took me off into some trees and began with ‘if I don't come back tomorrow...’ So I was waiting for some big outpouring of feeling, for him to tell me that those nights had meant more to him, too, or something like that. Instead, he finished by saying, ‘please tell Charles I'm sorry.’ I…”

Raven’s voice caught somewhere between a laugh and a sob and she broke off a moment to remind herself that this was all in the past, that she no longer cared, and it wasn’t what she wanted anyway. Moira just looked straight ahead at the increasingly twisty road and Raven was grateful for the space to compose herself.

“I waited for him to keep going, thinking maybe that was just the first item a list, but that was it. After all that time, that was the only thing he had to say to me. And I was so angry. I was thinking that your last moments are supposed to be when you say something grand, like declaring your undying love for someone. And then I looked at him more closely, at how he wouldn’t quite meet my eyes and how, even with the helmet on, I could see that he was closer to tears then I’d ever seen him, and I realized- that’s what he was doing, in his own way. Declaring his love. It just wasn't for me.”

She blinked away traitorous tears and forced a weak smile, concluding, “I called him some pretty awful things then. I even said I hoped they shot him tomorrow and stomped away.”

“And then?”

 “And then I didn't see him again until Paris, where he shot me. How’s that for karma?”  
  
“Did you ever tell Charles what he said?”  
  
“No. At first I was too angry, then too sad, and by the time I came to some sort of peace with it all, Charles was in no place to hear anything from anyone.”  
  
“Wow. And I thought my situation was bad. At least Charles never actually… That’s really rough, Raven. Mystique, I mean. I... I don’t really know what more to say.”

Raven could sympathize. She forced her voice to be cold and cynical as she said, “Yeah. Like I said, tragedy.”

 

* * *

 

The women pulled into the abandoned ruins of the Tahawus mine site and its surrounding town near sunset that evening. The low light made the half-collapsed shafts and twisted house frames look like hulking monsters, crouched and readying themselves for attack. Moira shivered as they stepped out of the car. “This place is kind of creepy, don’t you think?”

Raven barely heard her as she looked around and inhaled the crisp, pine-scented air. She could see how many people would find it creepy, but the first word that came to her mind was “tranquil” and the second, “beautiful.”

She had never been here before, but Erik had mentioned it as a potential place to hide out, back when they were together. He had told her the whole place sang to him and Raven hadn’t been able to help herself from finding that description incredibly romantic. She’d fantasized about a day that she and Erik would be on the run together and would need to stay here and hunker down for a few months, keeping each other warm.

Raven shook the thought away. She had been young and stupid, there was nothing more to it.

Moira called to her and pointed out a small cabin near the iron smelting factory that appeared suspiciously intact. Raven nodded. That had to be it. “Wait here, Moira.”

“Are you sure? I’m happy to come along and be your backup.”

“You’re not, but I appreciate you saying it all the same. And I’ll be fine. Just wait in the car; I’ll be out with him in a bit.”

Raven steadied herself with a deep breath and shifted into her natural blue form, which made it easier to move quietly. It also allowed her to use her full strength in a fight. Not that she thought Erik would attack her, but you could never be too careful. And he’d surprised her before. 

From what little she could see through the foggy windows, the one-room cabin appeared to be empty. She tried the door and found it unlocked. Steeling herself, Raven turned the knob and, as quietly as possible, inched the door open. She was met with silence. At first glance, the darkened room appeared empty. There was a sleeping area off to the left and a kitchen to the right. She stepped closer inside examine the latter for signs of life, but the wood-burning stove sat unused next to an empty table and a single chair. Maybe the icebox would give her a better idea?

She was reaching out towards it when the door abruptly slammed shut behind her. She stifled a scream and whirled around, still not detecting any movement. Then a bare light bulb hanging in the center of the room switched on and she heard a dry voice remark, “Hello, Mystique.”

Erik was lying on the bed, eyes closed. He was dressed casually, in jeans and a black turtleneck, but the helmet was still on. Raven rolled her eyes, irritation rising as shock faded away. “Haven’t lost your sense of drama, it seems. Nice to see you, too, Magneto.”

“What are you doing here?”

“I’ve come to bring you back to the mansion, though I’ve got to say I’m starting to regret that decision.”

“Well, then, let me make things easier for you. I’m not going back. It’s not where I belong.”

“Oh, yeah, an abandoned cabin in the middle of the woods seems much more you.”

“It’s a quiet spot that has allowed me to gain some clarity. I am beginning to plan my next move.”

“That’s all well and good, but we actually need your help at the school. I’m sure you’ll be able to put aside as much time as you need for plotting. In the meantime, you can make a real difference with… Are you even listening to me?”

“I am,” he murmured, eyes still closed. “I’m just not interested in what you have to say. I work best alone.”

Raven felt herself growing angrier with each word he spoke and was nearly ready to hurl the conveniently wooden table at him when it occurred to her that this might very well be the exact response he was looking for. Erik could be an ill-tempered, egotistical asshole, but she had never known him to be indifferent. If he wanted her to storm out and leave him alone for good, then it seemed clear to Raven that she should do the exact opposite.

With a loud sigh, she crossed the room and flopped down next to him on the bed. His eyes snapped open in surprise and Raven grinned. “I’m not buying it, Erik.”

“Excuse me? What is there to buy?”

“Your whole cold and uncaring act. I know feelings are really scary for you…”

“I’m not scared of…”

“Or whatever, but don’t tell yourself that you’re being some kind of hero or a martyr for the cause when what you’re really doing is sulking alone in the middle of nowhere. It’s time to stop moping.”

“I’m not moping.”

“Fine then. It’s time to stop being selfish and pathetic.”

“Excuse me?”

“You heard me. Look, we all know you’re an asshole. But, you’re an asshole who makes valuable contributions to the school and inexplicably makes my brother happy.”

Erik shook his head and went back to looking at the ceiling. “I only left because I was trying to do the right thing for once.”

Raven rolled her eyes. “It’s really not your strong suit.”

“Isn’t that the part where you were supposed to reassure me that going back would be the right thing?”

“Right, wrong, who knows? I’m the last person on earth who can reassure anyone of that. All I can tell you is that, right now, Charles needs you.”

Erik stiffened. “Is Charles alright?”

“No, actually. He’s not. He’s basically locked himself in his room and won’t speak to anyone all day. And he’s back on the drugs. He needs you, Erik, and…”

Erik sat up abruptly. “Alright. Let’s go.”

Raven followed suit. “Really?”

“Yes.”

“Seriously, that was all it took? And here I was ramping up to a whole speech.”

“You said Charles needed me.”

Raven stared. She couldn’t help herself from responding bitterly, “People needing you never made much of a difference before.”

Erik looked struck. “What are you…?”

“Forget it. Let’s go.”

She moved to get out of the bed, but Erik caught her arm and turned her to face him. He looked thoughtful. “I never really apologized to you, did I?”

“You never apologized at all, actually. But don’t worry, I stopped expecting you to. It’s not important anymore.”

Erik frowned, still holding onto her arm. “Look, if it’s any consolation, I never meant to hurt you or lead you on. I wasn’t even honest with myself about what I was feeling.”

Raven laughed humorlessly. “That would’ve been great to know before I spent ten years wondering why I wasn’t good enough for you, but sure, it’s nice to hear. Like I said, not a big deal.”

“No, it is. Mystique… Raven. I am truly sorry for everything I put you through. You deserve so much better than that.”

Raven found herself wilting under the intensity of his gaze and glanced away, blinking back tears. “I’m a big girl, Erik. I can handle rejection.”

“But you shouldn’t have to. Anyone who doesn’t see that you’re strong and brilliant and beautiful and fall in love with you instantly is a complete and utter idiot.”

Raven raised an eyebrow. “Present company excluded, I imagine?”

“No, very much included.”

She laughed again, genuinely this time. “Alright, then, we can agree on something. Come on, it’s getting late. Get up and grab anything you want to take with you. And take off the stupid helmet. He can’t hear you.”

Erik sighed and removed it. Raven couldn’t help smiling at the sad state of his hair underneath. She reached over and affectionately combed it down with her fingers. Still smiling, she whispered, “If you leave him again, I’ll kill you.”

Erik smiled back. “I know.”

“I am completely serious.”

“I know!”

“Good. As long as we’re clear. Now, Moira is waiting in the car outside…”

“Wait, what? Moira’s still with you guys? And is here? How’s that going to work?

“You are going to spend the entire ride home convincing her that you are not a threat.”

“Charles should just wipe her mind again,” Erik said sulkily.

“You know he won’t. Like it or not, we’re stuck with her. The only question is whether you are willing to make sacrifices for Charles the way he has for you?”

“Of course. That’s what I was trying to do…”

“Well, you failed. This here is your chance to prove it. Go outside, get in that car, and grovel like your life depends on it. Be contrite and complementary and say whatever you need to convince her that you’re not entirely evil.”

Erik grumbled, “I’d rather fight a small army.”

“I know. That’s what makes it a sacrifice. Let’s go.”

 

* * *

 

Raven was rather surprised by the readiness with which Erik groveled throughout the car ride. He was deadly serious and lightly charming at all the right moments and Raven could feel Moira slowly being won over despite herself.

It reminded Raven of how she had been so easily enamored by him all those years ago and she instinctively braced for the rush of pain and humiliation that usually accompanied such thoughts. But it didn’t come. All she felt in its place was a vague sense of pity for the eager-to-please girl and deeply confused man they used to be. Still unpleasant, but Raven had to admit it was a marked improvement.

When they arrived back at the mansion, Logan let them in the front door. She opened her mouth to ask after Charles, but then she noticed that Erik’s gaze was fixed on a figure rising from the bottom of the main staircase with some effort. Charles stepped into the light and Erik strode forward to meet him, stopping a foot away to examine him closely. After a moment, Charles met his eyes. Time seemed to drag by as the men just stared, each taking the other in.

Raven turned away. She had no interest in watching people do the mental equivalent of running towards each other on a beach.

After a minute or two, she heard Erik say firmly that they’re going to get better and then take Charles upstairs. Raven found herself caught between rolling her eyes and thinking that it might be nice to be the center of someone’s world.

Before she could mentally expound more on the theme, she was interrupted by Hank rushing up behind her and saying excitedly, “Raven! I’m so glad you’re back. I made some improvements to the lab while you were gone. I think you’ll like it. Come let me show you?”

Raven turned. She looked into Hank’s eyes and found herself losing her train of thought. He reached out a hand and she smiled.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Taking a brief break from this to devote all my attention to the upcoming Reverse Bang, but have a complete outline for it now, so please don't think I've abandoned this story. Hope you're enjoying and Happy Holidays!


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